Sharing Souls
by hunnyfresh
Summary: Emma joins in on Operation Mongoose, determined to help Regina get her happy ending, however neither woman expects to be reliving the other's life through the book, their dreams, and even the briefest of touches. Video collab with MissLane. Link inside.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Once Upon a Time or any recognizable characters.**

 **AN: This takes place during 4B after Emma gets into Operation Mongoose and follows until 4x20 "Lily" so be warned there are mentions and spoilers if you haven't watched as far. There's no Author, no Zelena, and Robin and Roland are happily in NYC with the real Marian because wtf was that plot line?**

 **AN2: Written for** misslane1981 **and her accompanying video which can be found at** www(period)youtube(period)com / watch ? v = HWByjZz-Qdk **\- replace the periods and remove the spaces!**

 **TW: Implied past child abuse and implied past dubious consent.**

* * *

Emma slammed the book shut and dropped her head onto the thick leather bound cover. The stupid Once Upon a Time title it boasted had been mocking her for days now as she, Regina, and Henry scoured through its pages and the empty books of the Sorcerer's house for clues on how to locate the Author or unlock the book's secrets.

It was useless so far.

"Now that's one way to use your head," Regina quipped, returning from her kitchen and placing two ciders on the coffee table in front of the blonde who sat on the floor, her legs outstretched under the table.

"This book is stupid," Emma muttered into the cover.

They found zilch since they had started Operation Mongoose, and every night that Emma bid Regina goodbye, worry lines, frustration, and sadness wrinkling her near porcelain skin, Emma resolved to work harder.

She lifted her head up and scoffed at the book, whipping open the front cover with the back of her hand in aggravation. She had read the book a million times! Cinderella married her Prince. Little Red Riding Hood had quite the appetite in men. Snow White and Prince Charming sent Baby Emma away in a tree. Yup, she got that. The good guys win.

But how was she supposed to help Regina when the closest thing the book presented as a backstory was Regina saving young Snow's life?

Blindly sipping on the cider, Emma huffed as she turned to Regina's weak origin story, a whomping three pages of text that immediately flash forwarded to Queen Eva's death and the Evil Queen's uprising. Nothing about the ten odd years where Regina was King Leopold's wife and her descent into darkness. The missing points in the book that were so pivotal to Regina made the Queen angry that she had gotten scorned again, this time by a biased writer.

It was times like these that Emma almost wished there was a baddie to fight. At least then she could punch something in the face.

"My sentiments exactly." Regina sat on the couch, her knees nearly brushing Emma's shoulder in their proximity as the brunette leaned forward to examine the book with her.

Sighing, Emma flipped open the book once more. There had to be something in its pages. They wouldn't have found the secret room full of empty books for nothing. But even in the three days that she, Regina, and Henry had been meeting together, coming up with theories on where the Author was located and how to change the book, they had come up short. Now, all they had was a knocked out Henry curled up on the sofa with colour-coded notes as his blanket, a crest-fallen Queen who was getting more and more despondent with every dead end, and a very frustrated Saviour. Emma was supposed to bring back the happy endings. Why was finding Regina's like pulling teeth?

The cartoon image of the Evil Queen vowing how she would destroy everyone's happiness stared up at her mockingly. Emma had heard that phrase once or twice since meeting Regina, and though the Queen had come close a few times, Regina was the one to actually give Emma her happiness. Henry's upbringing, the gift of memories during their time in New York. Regina gave her without thought, and all Emma wanted to do was repay her in kind. She was the Saviour, right? She had to have some leeway in that department.

She flipped the pages again, hoping to find something in the ink when Regina saved a young Snow, but she stopped dead at an unfamiliar picture of a young Regina clutching a man in her arms on the floor of a stable.

"What the hell?" She said out loud, drawing Regina's attention behind her.

The brunette was nearly cheek to cheek with Emma as she gasped seeing her younger self on the page. "What did you do?"

"Nothing." Emma turned her head and nearly collided with the older woman. Wide, nearly fearful eyes stared back at her, but Emma couldn't question any further. She felt a pull, like a rope lassoing around her chest, and before she could even turn back toward the book, Emma's vision grew hazy.

Regina's presence beside her dwindled, and the comfort of the carpet under her body gave way to hard ground and the overwhelming smell of manure. When her vision cleared, her heart was already racing, both in fear, anger, and absolute dread. Cora stood above her with a glowing red heart in her hand, and Emma didn't need to feel Daniel tense in her arms to know whose heart it was. Then Cora squeezed, and a breathy sob escaped her lips as the heart crumbled into dust. She held him tighter as if her physical hold could stop the life being taken away from him, but as the final grain of dust fell to the ground, Emma felt her world coming to an end. A little house on a hill, a small farm with horses, and dark haired children running carefree in the field behind their home. Daniel trudging in from the farm covered in mud and hay and the children hanging off his shoulders as she fixed up dinner for the evening. All ripped away just as Daniel's heart had been taken. She was vaguely aware of Cora's footsteps echoing her exit as she left the stables, but all Emma could do was sob over Daniel's body, begging for him to come back. She kissed him over and over and even gathered the grains of dust that once comprised his heart and tried to mould it back together. It was no use. Daniel was dead.

She felt the pull in her chest again, the edges of her vision fading like a burning piece of paper, and then she was out of the stables and back in Regina's living room.

"Ms. Swan. Ms. Swan! Emma!" With a gasp like she was breaking the ocean's surface, Emma seized against the foot of the couch and nearly clocked Regina in the jaw when the brunette tried to hold her steady. Her heart was still racing and her palms were shaky, and the only thing Emma could comprehend was that _Daniel was dead._

She sobbed. "No, no, no."

"Emma." Regina held her shoulders firm, and though Emma struggled against her grip, she eventually succumbed to being pulled in by the older woman.

" _Daniel_ ," Emma sobbed into Regina's shirt, unaware of the woman tensing underneath her mutterings. " _No,_ _no come back to me._ "

Hopelessness was the only thing running through Emma's body as she clutched against Regina, wishing she could reverse time, have magic of her own, or run away sooner. But all she could do as her throat constricted and her heart clenched in misery was hide away from the world as Regina cautiously rubbed her back.

* * *

It was a wonder how Emma's sobs didn't wake their son who was just two feet away from the embracing women on the floor. It took a long while before Emma was calm enough for the emotions she had felt to ebb away. It filtered out of her like air in a pricked balloon, slowly deflating with passing time until she was left limp and exhausted. Halfway through she was vaguely aware that it was Regina who had gone through this pain, but her body reacted all the same, hiccupping as she struggled for breath.

Regina held her the entire time, whispering softly that she would be okay even though Regina knew the outcome of witnessing Daniel's death. They were here from it, after all. When Emma's shaking shoulders ceased and her whimpers gave way to deep inhales, Regina removed her hand from the blonde's back and tucked sweat-slicked hair away from Emma's face. She leaned back, studying her with wondrous curiosity.

Emma sniffled and wiped her nose with the back of her palm, scooting backward until her back fully rested against the foot of the couch. She glared daggers at the book on the table before wiping her face clear of moisture. "That was weird," she said hoarsely.

"What—" Regina darted her eyes behind her to the book, "—what happened?"

"I was there."

"In the book."

"Like, in you," the blonde explained lamely. "It was like looking back on a memory, but it was yours. I could, I could see and hear and feel everything."

"When you say that, you mean..."

Their eyes locked. "Everything."

Silence settled between them as Regina's eyes remained downcast, absorbing the information. Emma had just witnessed the beginning of the catalyst that began her journey as the Evil Queen, and the blonde had broken down in her arms. Regina wasn't quite sure what to do with that information. A part of her was offended, as if Emma had willingly invaded her privacy, but another part was pleased that someone knew what it felt like, to literally be in her shoes.

A hand on her arm pulled her from her thoughts, and though Emma's palm was still clammy, the blonde squeezed affectionately until Regina looked up to meet her gaze.

"I'm so sorry."

She shook her head confused. "What for?"

Tears prickled in Emma's eyes once more, and the Saviour turned her head to focus on their sleeping son a couch over, his arm falling off the cushion as his knuckles grazed the carpet. "The only time I ever felt like that before was when Henry ate the turnover and they said he was dead."

Regina nodded, her chest clenching in memory and guilt.

"What happened just now?"

"I've no idea, Saviour." Regina composed herself and moved from her sitting position on the floor to grab the book and settle back on the couch. Her eyes glossed over the words of the newly added story before she hovered a palm over it. Magic tingled just beneath her hand as if a barrier was there shielding it from reaching her. Whether it was the book's innate magic or something that had transpired just then, Regina wasn't sure, but she was determined to get to the bottom of it.

Regina was about to ask Emma if she was well enough to stand before the blonde beat her to it. "Your mom was always like that?"

Breathing deeply, Regina stared out straight ahead of her as if memorizing the woodwork of her mantelpiece. She hadn't really thought about that fateful day in the stable for years, long since accepting that that was that, but seeing Emma's visceral reaction brought up her own memories that didn't need a book to jump start. She swallowed thickly then nodded. "Yes. But I realized only recently it was because of her lack of heart."

Emma snorted before pushing herself up off the ground and plopping herself onto the couch, tugging the book from Regina's lap and shutting it close. "Doesn't make it right." She ran her fingers through her hair and cleared her throat. "I'm, uh—My mom, she actually told me about Daniel. But that wasn't her story to tell."

"Yes," Regina breathed before turning hear head slowly and speaking sardonically. "And you got front row tickets to it."

"I didn't mean to—"

Regina held up her hand. "It's fine. Perhaps we can reconvene tomorrow? You've been through quite a bit just now."

Emma nodded and tucked the book under her arm. After a hasty goodbye and Regina settling a blanket over Henry because despite her insistence, the Little Prince was getting much too big to be carried, Regina retreated to her bedroom, contemplating what had just occurred in the last hour. Emma had relived Regina's past, one that was pivotal to her being. If that was the cost of finding the keys to the book and the Author, Regina wasn't quite sure if she was ready to pay up. Changing her ways was one thing, but having anyone, the Saviour of all people, pry into her private life might just be a tad too much.

Perhaps it was thoughts of what had happened that caused Regina to fall into a fitful sleep, but the thin layer of magic that had followed both her and Emma when they leaned over the book together crackled in her skin. One moment, her mind had been filled with Robin and Roland and the sporadic time they had all spent together until they began to blur and the only thing she could see were trees. So many trees overhead and an unsettling chill surrounding her. She screamed. A loud, high pitched wail came from her throat breaking through the quiet of the forest, and all Regina wanted to feel was safe. It wasn't coming. No one was coming. She cried louder. A red-headed boy appeared overhead and scooped her up, and though it wasn't the warmth of the man who had cradled her earlier or the heartbeat of the woman she had memorized long ago, it was good enough.

Regina woke with a start, confusion settling within her as she tried to make sense of what she had just witnessed. Her throat was dry from the screaming and her cheeks were damp with tears, but the unnerving feeling of being alone settled within her more so than it ever had. This wasn't just a typical pity party; it was something else entirely.

When she woke later and explained to both Henry and Emma over breakfast what she had seen, Emma had fixed her with a curious look but it was Henry who said that red-headed child may have been Pinocchio, and it was then the mothers and son realized what had occurred.

Body jumping had never been more than a myth in the Enchanted Forest. One could cast a glamour over their appearance but to feel for another was unheard of, especially to jump into past selves. It was also the only explanation they could come up with, and Regina was beginning to get nervous for what exactly Emma would see.

"This is just perfect," Regina muttered as she cleared off the dishes from their hasty breakfast.

Henry had already rushed off to catch the bus, but Emma had stayed behind, flicking through the pages of the book in a furrowed concentration as if she could will it to work. She glanced up at Regina's grumble with a cocked eyebrow. "Hey, you're seeing my stuff too."

"A crack at the Saviour," Regina feigned a shiver, "how terrifying."

Emma slammed the book shut and stood from her stool, leveling Regina with a glare. "Did you ever think that the Saviour title is just as oppressive as the Evil Queen?"

Regina crossed her arms and scoffed. "You're the Saviour. Automatically loved by all. Whatever you've been through you win in the end."

"You know what being the Saviour means, Regina?" Emma thundered around the island, taking determined strides toward the brunette. "You can't mess up. You always have to choose the path of goodness. If you even think about choosing a lesser of two evils, you're judged so harshly. Not just by my parents, or Henry, but this whole town. I can't fail. Never. The only way _you_ can go is up."

"As everyone else throws rocks on you on the climb up," Regina added, meeting Emma nearly nose to nose. "Trust me, Saviour. You're not going to like what you see of the Evil Queen. I suggest you back out now."

Emma just shook her head, taking the book with her as she left because no matter what, even if they were fighting on the same side, they were always fighting. It was the one common factor between them that oddly worked because as much as they argued, it was a push in the right direction.

Regina rolled her eyes when Emma slammed the door shut, knowing it would be useless to reprimand her because come tomorrow night when they were friendly once more, the Saviour would just slam the door again. Her words settled slowly in Regina's brain. She knew the feeling; striving for perfection to get the attention and affection of her Mother, Rumpelstiltskin, even Robin when she realized his dislike for magic. But it was different. Regina had been bred for evil and had gotten the short end of the stick. Whatever Emma had gone through in foster care wouldn't hold a candle to a flame of Regina's upbringing.

But as the week went on and Regina began dreaming about forgotten birthdays, lonely lunches, and Christmas mornings with nothing more than a 'make your bed' Regina was beginning to realize that maybe Emma had just as much to hide as Regina did.

This time when it happened, one week into their begrudging acceptance that they could feel each other's memory, Regina was left shaking and fearful as she gripped her bedsheets in her fists and succumbed to the monster of her mind.

The little blonde girl in her dream scurried from her sleep at the first sound of footsteps on the landing and hid under her bed, the space too tight to easily squirm under. Adrenaline coursed through Regina, encouraging her to hide. She was just thin enough to slide under, one of the blessings that came from her constantly growling stomach, but the fear prickled through her veins like ice water. Her heart beat so loudly in her ears she worried it might attract attention. The footsteps stopped. The door opened. She gasped. Regina covered her face in her hands then screamed so loud there was no way others hadn't heard. The last thing she felt was the hardwood scraping her knees and the metal frame digging into her back as she was dragged from under the bed.

Regina woke with a start, her forehead slick with sweat and the feel of the man's large, rough hands on her ankle. Her nose had still tingled with the stench of alcohol and BO when she removed herself from her bed that night and dialed Emma frantically. She didn't know what she was going to say, but all she wanted to do was make sure Emma was okay.

"What's wrong?" Emma's groggy voice sounded through the line. Despite the hour Regina could hear shuffling on Emma's end as if the blonde was getting ready to leave at a moment's notice. "You guys okay?"

It took Regina a long moment to calm her beating heart. A trip to the washroom with Emma on speaker was much needed with the Saviour waiting patiently as Regina ran the tap and splashed her face with cold water. She scrubbed at her arms where she felt the man grip her until they were red and raw. Then Regina sat on the edge of the bath, door locked as a secondary precaution and her palm tingling with magic should anyone choose to sneak into her room at this hour. Her breathing on the line was the only indicator that she was still alive and relatively well, but at Emma's second round of questioning, Regina found her voice.

Hoarse as it was, she was able to summon enough courage to ask her own question. "Are you okay?"

"What?" Emma was more awake now, no doubt thoroughly confused. "Regina, you called me."

The brunette swallowed and nodded, running wild fingers through her damp bangs. "I just need to know you're okay."

"I'm fine?"

"Good, good."

A beat passed and when Regina refused to divulge more or hang up, the shifting gears in Emma's head clicked. In a voice so quiet it almost shook Regina to realize she had heard it before, coming it from a younger, shyer Emma, the blonde whispered. "What did you see?"

Regina's body immediately tensed, and though she was a grown woman and had her own threats removed, more often than not by her own hand, she couldn't shake the disgust and bile rising in her throat. She didn't even know what had resulted of being found under the bed, but her racing heart told her it wasn't good.

"Regina," the blonde prompted. "What happened to me?"

"You were eight," Regina began shakily. "It looked that way at least. You woke in the middle of the night and hid under your bed."

"Oh."

Dread filled Regina's chest at Emma's despondent realization.

"That's Mr. Mirchov."

She waited with bated breath for Emma to continue, but the blonde remained silent. "What did he do to you?"

Emma chuckled dryly. The springs of her bed creaked under her, and Regina assumed neither was falling back asleep just yet. "What does it matter. I turned out the winner, right?"

Regina wanted to throw up again for a whole new reason as her words were thrown back at her. "I—I'm—" She took a staggering breath and clutched at the towel over the tub. "That was insensitive of me. I'm so sorry to have assumed."

There was a moment where Regina thought Emma would dismiss her again, but with a quiet, "it's okay", both breathed just a bit easier.

Regina didn't ask what happened again; it wasn't her place to pry. It wasn't okay and she knew it. For now, she was content with Emma on the line even if it was too late in so many ways.

* * *

Emma had been fine, if not a little unnerved by the 3am call and that Regina was getting more than longing to be the popular kid and to have a backpack that didn't rip. It still rattled Regina to think that Emma had reacted too quickly in her dream. Eight years old and she had already learned how to hide. The thought had made her shudder. They had remained silent on the phone for nearly another hour before Regina's body eventually calmed and she quietly whispered a goodnight. It didn't stop Regina from lying awake at night, remembering the days when she and Emma had fought together in Neverland and remembering the sympathy the blonde had in her eyes whenever they encountered the Lost Boys. She was one too.

Despite their Author hunt the town still needed to run, and halfway through examining potential bylaws, Snow's call had come in demanding Regina's presence at the loft. _Emma wasn't fine anymore_. She was worried that her call had triggered something in Emma she had long since repressed, but she wasn't expecting what she found when she stormed the Charming's apartment.

That was when their little shared memories conundrum began to escalate.

The only words she had managed to decipher were 'Emma' and 'hurt', and that was more than enough reason to poof herself out of her office and in front of the Charming apartment. She ran into the three storey building as fast as her heeled boots could take her, and with little fanfare, she burst through the door to see Emma cowering in the corner, Snow kneeling in front of her cautiously, David retrieving a pack of frozen peas and handing it to Hook who was sporting a black eye.

Regina almost momentarily forgot why she had been summoned when delight from Hook's injury coursed through her, but then Emma yelled, and that hadn't been a Saviour-grunt or a clumsy-Emma yelp. No, Regina had heard that sound just last night. She had _made_ that sound last night, her throat still itching with harsh vibrations.

She darted to the corner about to ask what happened when she saw the book, opened on the coffee table to an image she had spent years forgetting. Regina, eighteen years old and dressed up like a Queen, and Leopold, his knuckles grazing her cheek. The picture almost looked romantically coy, but the bile she could never stop from rising whenever she thought of the King surfaced. It was her duty after all, as future Queen. They had to consummate their marriage, of course, and she was so, so beautiful.

"Don't touch me," Emma warned, curling in on herself.

"Emma, it's me. It's your mother," Snow pleaded.

"You look just like him," the blonde muttered into her knees.

Snow looked up at Regina confused. They had discovered that morning after the first incident that even Henry with the Heart of the Truest Believer couldn't see the newly revealed pages, so why would Snow? Emma's behaviour must have been seemingly random to the Charmings and their pirate mascot, so Regina crouched slowly, the flooring hard against her knees as she inched forward.

"Emma. Emma, he's not real. He can't hurt you."

"What are you—" Regina hushed Snow with a raised palm.

"Emma." Regina reached out her hand then, her palm hovering over Emma's forearm curled over her head. Even from this distance Regina could feel the tension coiling inside the Saviour. But she wasn't the Saviour just then, was she? She was that lonely, scared little girl Regina had been dreaming out.

"Let me try," Hook insisted, the bag of peas pathetically pressed against his eye as he sauntered into the living room.

"Do you want a shiner to match?" David warned. Hook grumbled and pressed firmly on the bag.

"I have to, I have to, I have to," Emma mumbled so quietly to herself it may as well have been gibberish, but it stopped Regina cold. She heard those words before. She'd _said_ those words before. No longer was the privacy she so kept close to her chest a need but a necessity because no one, especially not Emma, deserved to fall victim to a child-bride.

"Emma," Regina repeated breathily. "I'm going to put my hand on your arm. Can I?"

It took a minute, but the blonde eventually nodded, though with the perpetual shakiness it could have just been her body wracked with sobs. As soon as Regina pressed her hand to Emma's forearm, every intention of gently revealing the traumatized girl was thrown away as her mind's eye played a movie that her body was helpless but to feel.

Emma, fifteen years old and smiling giddily at a boy a few years her senior, his varsity jacket draped over her shoulders as they necked in the backseat of his car. Her heart sped up nervously when his hand moved from her breast down to her thigh and left nothing to the imagination as to what he wanted.

"W-wait."

He sighed disappointed. "Come on, Emma. We've been dating for over a month."

Was that how long people dated before going all the way? Even his hand on her chest was more than she had ever done with anyone. He groaned annoyed and pulled back.

"Wait." She pulled him in by the back of his neck and with shaky fingers guided his hand to the button of her jeans.

He grinned and kissed her aggressively, nearly stealing her breath as he fiddled with her zipper then his own. Her heart pounded in her ears. His jacket slipped from her shoulders. This is what couples did.

She cried out.

Regina pulled her hand back with a gasp, shame and guilt flooding through her as that boy's touch on her skin made her feel dirty and her thighs throbbed uncomfortably. A look around the room let her know that her momentary lapse didn't go unnoticed by David and Snow's concerned face, but she pushed the feeling aside and pressed her hand against Emma once more, grateful she hadn't been thrust back into that car with that over-Axed teen.

"Emma," Regina began again, voice unusually hoarse this time. "Can you look at me?"

The blonde stilled for a moment before finally lifting her head. Her eyes were red from crying though that was to be expected. What threw Regina off guard was the cold, distant gaze they had as if the last flicker of hope was about to be extinguished any second now. Regina didn't think about her time as Leopold's wife if she could help it, but Emma's eyes were like staring into a reflection and all Regina could breathe out was an, " _I'm sorry._ "

Emma shook her head, the tension still tightening her body, but her mind clearing. "You're sorry?"

"Emma." Snow rushed to her daughter's side as soon as coherent words were out of her mouth, but the move made the blonde flinch.

"Just—just—one moment," Emma pleaded.

Regina gave Snow credit. She was learning when her daughter desperately needed space, so with a nod to both men in the room, Snow retreated to Neal's bassinet, scooped her youngest in her arms, and led her husband out the door.

Hook, on the other hand, had no wits about him as he unceremoniously dropped the bag of peas on the coffee table, swaggered over to the crouched women, and lowered to a knee himself. "I'll take it from here, Your Majesty."

He made to tug Emma up to her feet, but the blonde recoiled, whipping her hands away from his reach. "Not now. Please go."

"But—Swan."

Regina fixed him with a stare that was all glare and clear warning, and the pirate took note that his presence wasn't required. When the door closed shut behind him, Regina turned back to Emma. Her knees were still up, but her arms were draped tiredly over them like she had lost a fight. Her head hit the wall with a thud.

"He smells like him," she confessed quietly.

"You can see why I don't do rum." She hoped the playfulness in her voice could relieve the tension, but Emma just shut her eyes, no doubt putting herself in the prison of her mind—or Regina's rather. Showing mercy on her knees, Regina sat cross-legged on the ground.

"How old were you?" Emma nearly demanded, fingers fidgeting as she chipped the polish off her nails.

"Eighteen."

"Jesus," she let out in a low whoosh. "And Mary Margaret was—"

"Twelve." At Emma's green face, Regina disclaimed, "it wasn't unusual to marry that young."

"Is it usual to have to mother a child who's six years younger than you?"

"It's not unheard of here either."

"Why are you protecting him?" Emma snapped, her palms smacking the floor in outrage. "He hurt you! Don't tell me it was just the times because he was older and a king. He was so much older and he should have known better and saw that you were scared. _You weren't ready._ I was just a kid, goddammit!"

Regina quirked an eyebrow at that, and it took a moment for Emma to backpedal. " _You_. You were just a kid."

She scoffed dryly, flicking her hair off her shoulder. "It's not him I'm trying to protect."

Emma's eyes snapped up to hers with confused curiosity until they softened in understanding. There was no way Emma had just witnessed what Regina had, and for a moment, Regina wondered if they were thinking of the same incident. She shuddered hating to think there was more than one. "I'm a big girl, Regina. I can take care of myself."

"Could you when you were fifteen?" Emma's eyes flashed. Regina bit her lip. She hadn't meant to say anything about the flashback, but Emma was clearly reacting from experience, one she hadn't quite gotten over yet or refused to acknowledge in full form. It was Regina's turn to backtrack as she ran fingers through her hair. "My past isn't some story in a book, Ms. Swan. It's not pretty. If you would like to back out then I wouldn't blame you."

"I'm not gonna back out, Regina. I promised you that I'd help you get your happy ending, even if I have to write it myself. I just—I didn't expect you to be that scared. With your mom, I got it. She scared the crap out of me too, but this guy—God, I'm related to him?" Emma winced mentally pushing that thought aside.

"I was," Regina admitted, in a voice so quiet even she had trouble recognizing it. "I was terrified. Daniel and I, we never had anything more than a few stolen kisses, so by my wedding night, my Mother of all people told me it would hurt but it wouldn't last long, that she was proud of me."

"Proud that your husband was a sixty-year old perv?"

"Proud that I was moving up in the world as Queen."

"I don't think it was worth the cost."

"No," Regina admitted. "I would have loved to live the rest of my life in a rundown shack with someone who loved me instead of pretending to rule a kingdom."

"A house on a hill," Emma filled in quietly. "With horses and a farm and kids running across the field."

Regina's eyes widened in recognition. She hadn't thought about what could have been with Daniel in so long, but it was still fresh to Emma. She nodded solemnly. "Yes. But if I had to do it all over again at the chance to change my past, I wouldn't."

"No?"

She shook her head. "It got me Henry."

The blonde nodded in agreement, but her throat bobbed as she gulped in thought. "Was—was that the only time?"

"Yes," Regina lied easily, because even now if she thought about it too much, the vulnerability that made her feel so weak would creep under her skin and she'd never be able to get up in the mornings. "I was more for show than I was his wife."

Emma's eyes traced over her features and after a bout of inspection where Regina felt so utterly exposed, a feat only Emma could accomplish, the blonde smiled sadly. "Don't forget. I can tell when you're lying."

"I had him killed," Regina provided after a moment.

"Good." Regina's breath hitched. She had seen a hint of darkness in the Saviour in Neverland, but that was a place that highlighted your weaknesses and forced you into immoral situations. The self-satisfied snarl on the Saviour's lips was more than just a bad story read in a book. It made her wonder what other demons Emma had fought long before she entered their town.

"That boy, when you were fifteen," Regina began cautiously because she still felt a phantom pressure against her breast and Axe suffocating her nostrils, "what became of him?"

Emma snorted dryly. "He was a senior. I was the loner freshman who thought she was so lucky. Really, he just found out I was a foster kid and thought I'd be easy." The blonde spoke so freely, but the way her hands continued to fidget, Regina knew it wasn't that easy. "He broke up with me after that night and pretended I didn't exist. I actually saw him when me and Henry were in New York. He's got the big house, big car, and hot wife."

"I can loan you an Agrabah viper," Regina offered.

Emma laughed, a boisterous deep chuckle that shouldn't have made Regina grin given the circumstances, but it did. It made her smile that despite who Regina was, Emma didn't judge her or feel sorry for her. She just understood.

"A viper, huh? I thought poisoned apples were more your thing."

"They're poisoned with sleeping curses," Regina pointed out. "Vipers, on the other hand—they're more effective. It's the equivalent of this world's arsenic."

"You've thought this through," the blonde said impressed.

"I had eighteen long years to think before Henry." Regina leaned over and pressed her palm to the top of Emma's knee, catching eye contact with the younger woman. "I know you might not be okay, but what can I do to make it better?"

Emma bit her bottom lip looking almost hesitant to speak, but at Regina's insistent stare, she said, "Henry says you make a really good hot chocolate. Better than Granny's."

Regina playfully rolled her eyes but used Emma's planted legs to pull herself up. She offered her hand to Emma who took it as the two women made their way to the kitchen, not realizing their fingers were still linked.

* * *

The touch that catapulted Regina to the backseat of a car as some loser high school senior groped her was more than just a fluke. It continued to happen more and more often, and it was getting awkward to acknowledge just how much she and Emma touched for flashes of emotion to spike through her.

It had only occurred when Emma was experiencing intense emotions. Henry had made the badminton team and pulled both his mothers into a hug. Emma had been exceptionally proud then, and for a moment, Regina saw a teenage Emma having fun with Ingrid at a fair. Then Regina and Emma were having a budget meeting in her office when Hook strode in like she had some open door policy, and when she scooted behind Emma to show Hook the door, a flurry of secondary anger swept through her that fueled her own. Her favourite bout of mutual emotion had been when Emma had stayed for dinner last week, and when her foot brushed against the blonde's calf under the table right as Emma had taken a bite of lasagna, deep satisfaction ran toward her core that made Regina cross her legs even tighter and redden her cheeks. She was sure it wasn't supposed to feel _that_ way.

If these visions of sorts kept up in intensity, sooner or later Regina and Emma wouldn't be able to be in the same room as each other. Sure, it was dreams, readings, and touches for now, but would it escalate with just a look? A mere presence of the other?

Regina had seen things—felt things—that Emma had gone through. It was strange how much the memories of Emma jumped from time to time, the blonde being nothing more than a toddler in one, a teen in the next, and then a child in another. There was no rhyme or reason to Emma's life, and Regina was almost jealous of that. Emma's life was her own, filled with random bursts of thought whenever she saw fit. But with Regina's, the cyclical nature of the book presenting her story made her just that. Nothing more than a character within a page. Maybe that was all she was. Her life set in stone as certain as the words inked in the fibers.

She never voiced as much to Henry or Emma that night when the blonde came over for dinner. Emma had originally told her parents and Killian that she was helping Regina with a project, and though they did discuss Operation Mongoose, the night unofficially turned into a night off from the job. Dinner, homework help, and an episode of Motive were all that occurred during their little project, and by the time the program ended with Henry tucked into bed, Emma was too tired to drive home. It was only polite of Regina, of course, to offer the woman who vowed to help find her happy ending the guest room to sleep for the night. A grateful smile was passed between them, and whether it was that, or the fact that they had actually been getting on a lot better, but Regina had a dream that didn't leave her saddened by Emma's past.

A girl, not much older than Emma at the time, with dark eyes, dark hair, and a wickedly mischievous smile filled her thoughts. Regina chased after her, laughing wildly as they ran through a park in the middle of the night. They suddenly collapsed in an open clearing, Regina's bag spilling of treats and the girl's pocket packed with a drink each. The moonlight and stars brightened up their grinning faces as they lay side by side. She was out of breath, exhilarated, her heart thumping, but more importantly, she felt. . .safe.

Regina recognized this feeling whenever she was with Henry, even sometimes when both she and Emma would wrap their arms around their son. Warmth, security, home.

Regina hadn't gotten much more than that, the two girls laying under the night sky, but this time she didn't wake feeling nauseated and small. Quite honestly she felt like she was on top of the world.

It took Regina all day, after waking both Henry and Emma for breakfast and then heading to work herself, to finally ask Emma just who that girl was. She hadn't meant to. She was actually hoping to have the dream again before confronting Emma, but when she walked into the Sheriff's station with some reports and found Hook in her office, his hand draped on her shoulder, Regina saw the tension there. Come to think of it, she had seen that posture many times before. A younger Emma in an uncomfortable situation.

"Sheriff Swan." Regina cleared her throat, glaring pointedly at Hook. The pirate removed his hand and returned the glare before bending over and kissing Emma on the cheek. Regina smiled tightly as he departed, refusing to move out of his way and forcing him to bypass her.

When they were finally alone, Emma muttered a quiet "thanks."

"For what, dear?" Regina stepped further into her office and shut the door behind her.

Emma's ears turned red and she shrugged. "Nothing, I guess. What's up?"

"Why do you like him?" Regina suddenly demanded, sitting at the edge of Emma's desk.

The question caught the blonde off guard. The weeks had opened them to more casually intimate conversation, but Regina clearly struck a chord in the blonde. She usually would revel in such unpreparedness, but she really wanted to know what was so appealing about his permanent broodiness and his lack of hand. After everything Emma had been through, why was she so attracted to foul men in leather jackets?

"He likes me," she provided simply.

"But why do you like him?"

"Why do you like Robin?"

"He's my soul mate," the brunette deadpanned.

"And that's enough for you? You. Regina Mills, who in all the three years I've known you, would never settle for anything but the best."

Regina raised an eyebrow, a warning that this was not the time for that.

"Regina," Emma sighed. "Please? Can we not do this right now?"

"Do what? I'm just asking you what you find so attractive about your boyfriend. Why is that difficult for you to answer?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"Because I have never seen you look at him or any of the other leather-clad wearing, never-shaving macho men the way you look at..."

"What?" Emma stood bewildered, her hands on her hips. "You?"

"What?" Regina swallowed tightly and Emma looked befuddled.

The blonde averted her gaze. Regina shook her head dismissing the tangent. She had not meant to bring up the girl from her dreams, but clearly she was not who Emma had linked to. Still, after experiencing so much pain in Emma's life, Regina wanted to know who the one person who was her light was. "I saw a girl," Regina explained slowly. "A teenager. You were about fourteen."

Emma gasped then, and if she had been nervous about her past foster parents, the sadness and regret in her eyes mirrored what Regina felt every time she thought about Emma's upbringing and how she had been the cause of it.

"Lily." The name was whispered, barely given a breath, yet Emma looked like she was about to pass out from lack of oxygen. She swallowed again and took a step closer. "You saw Lily?"

Regina nodded once. "Who is she?"

Emma descended slowly to her chair, and Regina moved the visitor's chair over so that they were facing one another. She didn't know what possessed her, but she reached out, meaning to stroke Emma's arm reassuringly, but the second she made contact, they both gasped, a shared memory between the two.

Emma and Lily were in a living room, playing video games and laughing, and Emma looked at Lily, and Lily looked at Emma, and the warmth that flooded through them couldn't be ignored. They could run away together. A modern day Thelma and Louise. They could keep each other safe and keep each other happy, and they'd be together.

Regina ripped her hand away, and Emma's wide eyes forgot to be lost in thought as they questioned Regina. "You saw that?"

She nodded. "And felt it too."

Emma took a moment to gather herself. Seeing Lily on that video had brought back a lot of memories, but literally reliving it—a sad smile graced her face.

"She was my best friend," Emma answered. "I met her stealing a box of pop tarts and she helped me out, and that month where we'd just accidentally on purpose keep bumping into each other was the best month of my life."

"Who was she though?"

"Another runaway, at least that's what she told me." Emma rifled through her drawer and pulled out a locked box. She opened it and retrieved a camera, setting it up for Regina to see. "We'd part ways at the end of the night, but we found each other come morning, and eventually we were just on the move together."

Regina reached out when Emma offered her the camera, smiling at fourteen year old Emma and this Lily girl with fondness. "She was just a friend?" Regina questioned, watching them make faces at the camera.

Emma titled her head in thought, and after a minute of quiet, she rolled her chair closer to Regina's so that they could both watch the tiny screen. They both laughed when Lily had apparently tickled Emma's side and the girls fell on top of one another.

"I don't think I knew what love was back then," Emma quietly admitted. "I didn't really have much of it. I always thought Neal was my first love. But you don't need to sleep with someone to love them, do you?"

Regina looked up, catching the wonder in green eyes, and smiled herself. "No. No you don't."

The video cut to the Ice Queen, a time Emma was still sensitive about, and Regina returned the camera, another question on the tip of her lips.

"Hook. Do you...love him?" Regina repeated with cautioned curiosity.

Emma opened her mouth before shutting it in thought. She took the moment to return the camera to its box before tilting her head curiously at Regina. "Okay, I'll answer that if you answer mine."

Regina bit the inside of her lip before nodding her agreement reluctantly. "Fine."

With a wave of her hand, Emma had locked the station door and a silencing spell was cast over the room. It seemed as if the Saviour didn't want to be overheard. Regina nodded her head impressed as she watched Emma stretch in her chair, hands behind her head in thought.

"I think so?"

"Is that a question?"

"I don't know," the blonde admitted, moving her gaze from ceiling to Regina. "Ever since...you know...I can barely stand to be around him, but he loves me. I know he does, and it's nice just to, I don't know."

" _To feel wanted._ " They finished on the same note.

"Yeah," Emma said in wonderment before quirking her lip up in wry amusement. "Are these memories making us say the same things too?"

Regina smiled tightly, but in actuality, she knew Emma's predicament. She had lived in that situation numerous times. Robin's face came to mind as she wondered if pixie dust and true loves were just self-fulfilling prophecies: they worked because you wanted them to. Being wanted seemed a good enough reason as a lion tattoo.

"I could," Emma continued to explain. "In time. Maybe. I think. I could love him and look at him the way he looks at me, but it's nice not having to try so hard. Especially in this town where we're faced with something every month, a relationship that's just there isn't so bad."

"But are you happy?"

"I've got Henry," she declared by way of answer, reaching over to clasp Regina's arm in fondness. "And my parents, and my brother, and you're here too. Lily was a comforting time in my life, but I've got a future I'm looking forward to."

Regina mulled over the answer. She noticed the deflection but figured Emma wouldn't say anything more.

"Now my turn," the blonde clapped, striking up a smile that dismissed the earlier vulnerability from her voice, "when we find this Author, what do you want them to do? Write back Robin and Roland into the story?"

The question took Regina off guard. A few weeks ago, Regina would have seriously contemplated saying yes, giving a brief hesitation about Marian's outcome before deciding Marian would find love elsewhere, but now she wasn't so sure. Pixie dust had led her to Robin once. A tattoo had brought him to her again. And now this Author could very well write them a happily ever after. They say the third time's a charm, but that's as good as saying fool me twice, and Regina was no fool.

But they were making progress, weren't they? She wasn't experiencing Emma's memories for naught, and the book wasn't revealing her past for the heck of it. Just now they had shared a memory together. If this wasn't the track she was supposed to be on, then what was the point?

Regina rubbed the back of her neck. "I don't know, quite honestly."

"Really?" Emma's eyebrows lifted in surprised. "No winning the lottery, cruise around the world, super pow—well, another house?"

"Those are all trivial," Regina scoffed.

"Then what would you ask them to write?"

Regina opened her mouth again then shut it, her shoulder rolling nonchalantly. "For me to be happy."

"Aren't you?" Emma's question has been riddled with genuine confusion that made Regina reel back. In this current moment, yes she was happy. Henry was safe, the town wasn't in danger, and she and Emma were on more than amicable terms. Hell, she had even babysat for the Charmings. "I don't mean to question, I'm just wondering what you would want. Maybe we can start from there. I know it's been a cycle of having good things taken away from you, but—"

"No." Regina held up her hand and stood because the Saviour had a point. "I like your plan."

"Wait, what?"

"You're not terribly incompetent for ideas, Emma," Regina tittered. She reached over, her hand falling on Emma's shoulder with an affectionate squeeze and that same electricity crackled through her once more. "Perhaps we can pause our search of the Author and spend more time with Henry."

"Both of us?"

"Well, you did want to be involved, did you not?"

"Yeah, yeah," Emma was quick to agree. "But you'd be okay with me being there?"

Regina smiled. "More than okay."


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer in Chapter One.**

 **AN: Spoilers for up to 4x19 "Sympathy for the De Vil"**

* * *

Emma hadn't picked up on how in tune Regina was with her emotions until they began designating their usual twice a week Operation Mongoose time to Henry and his Moms time. Sure, ever since they began living each other's life did Emma take note of more of Regina's mannerisms that was more mask than behaviour, and she definitely had noticed the way Regina would look at her with the softest of smiles as if she was genuinely happy that Emma was happy.

Which made this whole thing backwards because wasn't the point of Operation Mongoose to find Regina's happy ending, and here they were having dinner and playing Scrabble because both Mills were English nerds? But the past couple of weeks had sparked a change in Regina where she didn't want to rely on the Author, and it made Emma happy for her.

Huh, she stopped herself in contemplation. Now she understood that soft smile of Regina's. Regina had seen her past, felt guilted by it if their synchronous emotions were anything to go by, and if Emma smiled so did Regina. She supposed Emma felt the same way after seeing Regina grow up with Cora for a mother, Leopold for a husband, and Rumple as a teacher. No wonder the Mayor's self-worth was hidden under a mask of indifference.

Maybe they got themselves into this self-feeding loop of trying to make the other smile in any way possible, that they didn't realize being with each other and their son was the sure fire way to do that. The twice a week meet-ups somehow became nightly dinners, and though Emma had spent the first ten years of Henry's life out of the picture, she was content that his room at the mansion was to be his room. No point in having the pre-teen share a window nook with his mother. In hindsight, Henry living at the mansion again could have been seen as an excuse to get Emma over there every night, but even when Henry continued to help Belle with the shop or hung out with his friends until the street lamps came on, Emma still ventured over to Mifflin for conversation and a glass of wine (beer, really, which Regina surprisingly kept on hand for her).

And they talked.

They talked of what they had witnessed in each other's lives, and though some stories were more sensitive than others, they listened with an understanding ear and not an ounce of pity. Only sporadically would they bring up the Author, and the book was only mentioned if Emma had been reading it and gotten pulled into its pages, but for the most part, they willingly divulged their past.

This night however, Emma wasn't at Mifflin. She had ignored Kilian for too long, and though he had shown her the brand of cologne borrowed off of David to help mask the persistent rum-smell, the thought that the guy she was dating smelled like her dad left a sour taste in her mouth.

But she tried to push past that because she and Regina had vowed to take fate into their own hands and storybooks and authors be damned. Still, Emma couldn't help but feel so put out agreeing to meet Hook at the docks. She checked her phone watch once more, debating on seeing if Regina was free for drinks after her date, but then a raspy "hello, love" was whispered in her ear, and Emma yelped. She jumped and instinctively punched, clocking Hook in the jaw sending the pirate scampering to the ground.

"Don't scare me, Hook!" Emma yelled, her fist still cocked.

He groaned and massaged his chin. "That's one way to greet a fellow."

"Jesus," she muttered under her breath. She was a step away from helping him up when her phone vibrated, seeing it was a text from Regina.

 **Are you okay?** A smile tugged on Emma's face just seeing her name but it turned into a frown at Hook's groan.

"If you liked it rough, all you had to do was ask, love." Emma rolled her eyes at his statement. Hook spat once, his saliva twinged with blood before getting to his feet and wiping the gravel from his palms. He leaned in closer and lowered his voice. "Look, the rum's all gone from me clothes."

"That's great, Hook," the blonde muttered and reached out a hand to keep him at arms' length. "Look, I was wrong about tonight. Can we reschedule?"

"Are you feeling ill?" He tried to put the back of his hand to her forehead, but she ducked under his arm, shaking her head.

"I just remembered things I needed to do."

"You're always busy." He turned following her, catching the crook of her elbow.

"Then I'm always busy," Emma snapped giving that final push to move him further away.

He glared. "Ever since you've been cavorting with the Queen you've been acting strange."

"Killian," Emma sighed exasperated. "Just because I don't spend all my free time with you doesn't mean I'm a different person."

"You spend all your time with her!"

"I like spending it with her!" Hook's eyes widened, and even Emma's grew in size. "I like being with her and Henry. They're my family."

"That's fine, but perhaps when you're with me, you could actually be with me. It's like you're counting the minutes until you get to leave."

Emma wanted to snort, even deny the claim, but her fingers were itching to text Regina back. Maybe Hook was right after all.

"You're moody and short-tempered. It's like you're acting like the Evil Queen."

"If you're not a pirate then she's not evil."

He pursed his lips clearly wanting to argue. "Well should I schedule an appointment with Regina's secretary then if I want to be with you?"

"No."

"Why?"

"Maybe I don't want to be with you." The words were out before Emma could catch them, and though Hook looked like a wounded puppy dog, Emma couldn't find it in her to regret them. Instead she held her ground, chin defiant as Hook laughed to himself with a shake of his head.

"Fine. When you've come to your senses, give me a ring." He was off, leaving her on the pier as she stared after his retreating figure.

Her palms shook and adrenaline ran through her, but it wasn't out of remorse, no. Emma felt good. Free. Like she could finally breathe. As much as she wanted to justify it by saying she could be a blonde version of Regina at any given time, this was all Emma.

Emma never really did relationships. There had been Walsh, but she didn't count the flying monkey, and there were one night stands, but the only relationship she had ever cried over was Neal. And Regina when she came to think of it. Watching Hook's retreating form didn't even dig a hole of longing in her chest. But saying goodbye to Regina for that year? Emma had been bawling like a baby. Maybe Hook was right, Emma had changed. She wasn't the same girl who would settle for a man's love when she didn't feel the same for him. But she was the type of woman who was both a Saviour and a criminal, not forced to one side meant to follow the straight and narrow path. She and Regina kept reminding each other of that fact every day.

Her phone rang, and she briefly feared it was Hook saying he had made a mistake because she was not afraid of tearing him a new one if he didn't leave her alone. Seeing Regina's picture flash on her phone made her grin widen as she answered.

"Stop it," Regina commanded as way of greeting.

"Stop what?"

"Whatever you're doing. I can feel it."

"How?" Emma kicked at a stone and sat on the bench.

"I'm not sure, but you're increasingly happy. At first you were frightened and now you're elated. I have a presentation in the morning and it's distracting."

"I'm sorry my happiness is a distraction," the blonde tittered. "I'll try to be more neutral."

"Thank you." There was a final few clickings on Regina's end before she spoke again. "You're okay? You didn't answer my text."

"I broke up with Hook."

"Oh," Regina paused. "I'm...sorry?"

"No. Don't be. Like you said, who needs a fairy tale romance when I can make my own happy ending?"

Regina agreed with incoherent mumbling before she paused. Emma didn't need to see her or have a feel for her emotions to know that she was summoning the courage to make a request. It was adorable, really.

"I could always use some company," Regina finally voiced.

In the distance, Emma could see Hook's retreating figure glance back, but Emma stood, feeling her magic flow to her fingertips as she readied herself to poof to the mansion. "On my way."

* * *

News of the break up spread quickly, and though Hook insisted to all who would listen that he and the Saviour were on a break, Emma completely confirmed the gossip by avoiding him like the plague. Snow and David understood, if not just a tad concerned. They liked Hook after all. But by then new rumours were surfacing, one that made Hook growl and Snow tilt her head in contemplation.

Emma was certainly spending a lot of time with Regina.

Their shared motherhood was only a good enough excuse for so long, but when both Emma and Regina were seen out and about together, sharing meals or picking up orders for one another, it raised eyebrows. To the women, however, nothing had changed. Operation Mongoose had taken a backseat to their blossoming friendship, but neither woman could doubt that it was the reason they were closer.

Regina had showed up to the station one morning with a Tupperware of bacon and an egg in the hole sandwich because one of the few good foster homes had always made egg in the hole every Saturday and it was the least Regina could do if Emma had to work the weekend shift. The blonde's breath had stuttered seeing the breakfast that had made life good briefly, and she wanted so badly to hug the fabled Evil Queen, but with nothing more than an "enjoy your breakfast" and a knowing smile, Regina sauntered away.

Emma, in kind, had successfully conned Henry into convincing Regina to come back out to the stables. She hadn't been back since Daniel's resurrection, and she hadn't ridden in far longer. The brunette was nervous at first, the stables usually giving her terrible memories, but Emma squeezed her arm and teased about the ferocity of the giant stallion that was her horse despite his name being Tiny. When Regina overheard Henry telling Emma that her plan was a success, well, if the Queen's heart fluttered in her chest no one else was there to feel it. But Emma had looked up in that instant and smiled, and maybe they had put a pause on the Author search, but she liked whatever this was that came about it.

Regina knew, however, that all good things come to an end.

That's why they formed Operation Mongoose in the first place. Her bad luck had followed her into Storybrooke. So by a month and a half into their plan where the town was getting back on its feet and Regina felt happier, Robin a fond memory against the new ones she was making with Henry and Emma, that's when the other shoe dropped when the hell beast attacked and Cruella and Ursula drove across the town line.

* * *

"I don't want you to do this."

"Well if you say so, then I mustn't." Regina moved past Emma to her vanity and applied a dark layer of lipstick.

"Regina," the blonde insisted, catching her eye in the mirror. "I don't care if you and my parents think it's a good idea. I don't really trust Cruella, and Ursula, and, Jesus Maleficent is back from the freaking dead. How is that even possible when resurrecting Daniel, who had a full body, turned him into a Frankenstein's monster but Maleficent is all fine and dandy? You might as well round up Scar and cover yourself in raw meat."

"Don't be silly, dear. The Lion King was a Hamlet adaptation."

Emma rolled her eyes and reached out to turn Regina to her. At contact that same electrical vibe tingled through them. Worry crashed over Regina like a tidal wave. Pairing that with Emma's best impersonation of a puppy, and the Queen almost reconsidered this undercover mission.

"Emma," Regina reassured soothingly, bringing a palm up to Emma's cheek. "I will be fine. They feared me back in the Enchanted Forest."

"But you're not the Evil Queen here."

"Oh, dear," Regina chuckled. "Haven't you learned anything after all this time? Our past is a reminder of what used to be. There's no rule saying we can't retreat back to it."

* * *

Emma was fidgeting. She hadn't heard from Regina in more than eight hours. She knew nothing terrible was happening. Their underlying connection that never seemed to break despite their halt in the Author hunt still tingled within her. Even so, Emma was worried.

Tossing and turning in her sleep didn't help. Ringing off Regina's phone was useless. So Emma sat up at five in the morning, periodically checking her phone before pulling over the book into her lap. She hadn't opened it at least two weeks now. There was no reason to. If she wanted to know something, Regina would tell her or she could just ask. The last the book had left off at was shortly after Snow's flee from the castle. Regina had admitted she framed the young princess for the murder of her father, and though the people weren't entirely convinced, who were they to believe the Queen with dark magic.

Perhaps Emma had been addicted to the feeling of being close to Regina because she considered taking a willing joy ride into Regina's past if just to feel the older woman. But then she felt it. A tug that had tightened then slackened, and suddenly she couldn't feel Regina anymore. She was just…Emma, but this time it wasn't good enough. She sprang into action, pushing the book off her and grabbing her coat. She was at the edge of the forest before even recalling getting into her car.

* * *

"Regina!" Emma yelled into the forest. "Regina! Regina Mills, I swear to god if you don't show up right this instant—"

"You'll ground me?" Regina's hoarse voice sounded behind her, and Emma turned suddenly, relief washing through her. "The point of this mission is to remain incognito, Ms. Swan. I can't do that that if you're hollering—"

Regina barely finished that sentence before Emma engulfed her in a tight hug. Physical contact had never been a foreign language to them, and after their empath abilities heightened, they noticed just how frequently they brushed against one another. But this hug wasn't just of comfort after a nightmare or a soothing palm after a serious talk or Henry bringing them into a family embrace. This one was just for them.

The connection Emma had lost an hour ago came back full swing when the initial tension left Regina's body and the brunette returned the hug in kind, her head settled in the nook of Emma's neck. Warmth filled the Saviour, but it was an emotion Emma had trouble placing, not entirely unfamiliar, but it had been so long she couldn't quite give it a name.

"You scared me," Emma admitted, releasing her but keeping her just at her fingertips. "I had a feeling something was wrong and I panicked."

The pink flush to Regina's cheeks was nothing to be ignored as she cleared her throat and tugged back wayward hairs from her face. "I'm fine. A little alcohol induced, but fine."

Emma raised an eyebrow, taking in the sweat on Regina's forehead and the red in her eyes. "You're still a little drunk, aren't you?"

Regina opened her mouth to disagree but immediately clasped her hand over it, her eyes shutting in pain.

"What, did you wake up from a blackout or something?" Emma asked, rubbing Regina's back when the brunette crouched to the ground and looked like she wanted to be sick.

"You were panicking." It was the last thing Regina said before she retched all over the ground.

* * *

"They're after you." Regina said quietly one night as she and Emma sat in her apartment, a sleeping baby Neal nestled on Regina's chest. Despite her efforts, Emma wasn't able to calm her baby brother and had called in reinforcements since she didn't want to bother her parents on their date night. Regina had gotten him to sleep in minutes, humming a soft rock song that Emma knew Regina wouldn't have known willingly if the brunette hadn't have dreamed of one of the better foster families and the woman with the soothing voice. Thankfully it was the one night where the Queens of Darkness had decided havoc could be wreaked another night. Regina adjusted Neal on her chest and hummed when the boy whimpered. "They want to turn you dark."

"What are they going to do? Get me to drown puppies?"

Regina fixed her with a look that made her eyes glassy. She shook her head. "Far worse."

* * *

Regina hadn't been there when Emma had magicked Cruella off the ledge, but she sure as hell felt it. Running back the way she had come when the conch shell proved to be just a fatal distraction, Regina stopped and nearly collapsed against a tree. _Emma_.

Adrenaline. Fear. Utter determination. Then nothing. Nothing but a hollowed emptiness that Regina hadn't felt since her reign as Evil Queen. And it was all flooding from Emma.

She moved quickly then, pushing past bushes and trees before she reached the ledge, relieved to find Henry safe in Emma's grasp. The aura around the Saviour, however, had her faltering. Cruella was nowhere in sight. Henry was shaking, tears streaming down his face. And Emma, she remained stiff, her back arched in tension as Henry clutched at her.

"Henry," Regina gasped and knelt beside their son, checking him over from Emma's shoulder and wiping his face dry. At his sob, she wrapped her arms around them both but wasn't blind to the tension in Emma's body. Usually their family hugs had been filled with warmth, but this time, the distance was palpable.

* * *

Regina had found Emma later that night when Henry was safe and asleep in her room with a protection spell cast over it and Tinker Bell outside surveying the area. Cruella may be dead, but the threats in Storybrooke still remained. Henry hadn't said much about his capture, and Regina debated on more therapy sessions to help him deal with the fact that being the Evil Queen and the Saviour's son put a giant target on his back. But right now, Regina needed to find Emma.

"Don't come closer," Emma warned when Regina found her at the back of the woods, sitting on the ledge of the cliff where hours earlier Cruella's body had plummeted. Her voice was quiet, but in the dead of the night it carried loud and clear.

"I'm not afraid of you."

"You should be."

"She says to the Evil Queen," Regina scoffed and made the final steps beside Emma and sat down, her legs dangling over the cliffside.

"Did you see my parents' face when you brought her body up? They're scared of me."

"Not of you, dear," Regina reminded with a nudge. "They're scared of themselves. Look at all the bad they did to protect you."

"And it was for nothing," the blonde insisted, turning to face Regina now. "I'm dark."

"No." Regina took Emma's hand and squeezed, the familiar electricity crackling through them. Regina didn't need some sort of magical connection to know how conflicted Emma was feeling.

Her eyes bore into hers imploringly. "You may have darkness inside you, but you are not dark."

"She was defenceless."

"You didn't know that. Henry's life was in danger."

"She wouldn't have killed any of us."

"She had every intention to."

"But she couldn't. I killed a defenceless, desperate woman."

Regina released Emma's hand and summoned the book to them. It had been ages since they had properly been involved in Operation Mongoose, and seeing the book now made Regina's fingers twitch in what she was about to do. She wasn't even sure if it would work, but she was still having the odd dream about Emma, though some of them were bred from her deepest fantasies that began to spring when she and the Saviour became friends. It'd work for Emma at the very least.

Emma watched her curiously, her fingers twitching at the thin veil of magic weaving off the book. Regina flipped quickly to the page she wanted, and on her first guess she found it, somehow knowing it would appear there whether or not it was already stitched in the book. The picture beside the new chapter showed Regina dressed in her Evil Queen garb, a snarl on her face, and her hand outstretched, ash falling from it. Emma leaned toward the book fully, their shoulders brushing as Regina held it over both their laps.

Disappointment clouded Regina's features when the pull didn't come. Emma gasped and inadvertently clutched Regina's thigh in an attempt to keep herself from falling as she no doubt was called to its pages. Regina wrapped an arm around Emma's waist keeping her tucked into her side. One minute Emma was brooding on the cliff side under the moonlight and the next, her eyes were glazed and she was nothing but a shell as her mind was sent elsewhere.

Regina rarely saw Emma whenever the blonde had examined the book, and in the past weeks, she hadn't needed to since they spoke freely about what they wanted to know. She could only recall the very first time where neither woman had expected it and Regina was too panicked to realize the magic fogging between them. It was different this time as she read over discovering Rumple's new apprentice and ending her life with only an unblinking watery gaze. She could feel Emma feeling her, and if having two degrees of emotion wasn't already a laughable matter, having three as Regina felt her own anger rise at her past was making her head spin.

Her heart ached as she read her younger self marching through the woods, snagging the woman's heart, and crushing it to dust. Though she frowned for youth corrupted, Regina could never regret killing her. Then Emma's breathy gasp beside her had Regina turning to head to feel waves and waves of desperation leaking off Emma, and whether it was Emma's own thought or some weird combination of both, Regina knew this was what it was and there was no changing the past.

Inhaling deeply like she was surfacing from the ocean, Emma squeezed harder on Regina's thigh grounding them to the earth. The only sound between them was their laboured breathing, and the odd cricket in the dense woods behind them. For a moment Regina thought this would be it. The Saviour could only deal with so much, and adding Regina's own downfall into the mix, letting her know just exactly how evil she was so soon after Cruella's demise, may not have been the greatest idea.

Then Emma's hand on her thigh slackened until she was running her palm over her leg back and forth like Regina was the one who needed soothing. "She was your first kill."

"First of many," Regina clarified. "I was desperate, much like you were seeing Henry's life flash before your eyes. Even still, your intention was to save our son. My intention was to gain enough power to carve my own freedom. I didn't realize I was just building more gates and walls around me as I burned villages and beheaded the resistance."

"Are we doing a kill count? Give me some time I'll get there."

Regina cut her off by grabbing the blonde's chin between her fingers and pulling their faces close, making sure she listened. Her arms shivered, and Emma's hot breath ghosted against her nose and cheek. Even in the moonlight Regina could see her eyes dilate. "This doesn't define you, Emma. Good people do bad things, and bad people do good things. I can't promise this won't haunt you and that you won't think the worst of yourself and become some self-fulfilling prophecy, but I know the battle you're going through right now, and you don't have to end up being like me."

The blonde scoffed. "You didn't turn out so bad. Maybe this is my destiny."

Regina fixed her with a stare that was knowing and sad. There was always a reason to keep Emma's heart pure that was more than just being the Saviour or the product of True Love. Emma was just innately good, her actions brash, but her intentions clear. Emma knew the kill one save a thousand mentality was the only way to survive, but Regina bet she didn't mean it literally, and that scared both of them. God forbid Henry end up with another dark mother and one in fairytale rehab.

"What did we say, Ms. Swan?" Regina questioned as her thumb roved over Emma's chin once more. She scooted back and stood up from the ledge, tucking the Book under her arm and extending her free hand out to Emma. "We write our own destinies."

There was a quirk of Emma's lips and a moment when Regina thought Emma was going to leave her hanging, but Emma's palm slipped into hers, and relief flooded her system. She was not giving up on Emma.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer in Chapter One.**

 **AN: Spoilers for 4x20 "Lily"**

* * *

Emma always had pretty decent senses. Her ears picked up every tiny creak of the hardwood and every muffled breath of someone sneaking up the stairs. The air would crackle differently and would alert her to her surroundings, even waking her from deep sleeps. It's how she survived the foster care system and how she was able to hear her parents talk about her in the middle of the night during Neal's midnight feeding.

Sleepless nights had been a common occurrence since Cruella, but Regina had been helping her greatly. That night on the cliffs opened her eyes widely to what could be her fate. She knew Regina had ended lives, hell, the woman had even told her that herself. Emma had never felt it though. She had never gotten that far into the book to be one with the Evil Queen on every pillage and war. The darkness in her called out to it, but for every ounce of evil Emma felt in barely contained anger and white hot temper, Regina was there to help her battle through it.

By now Emma had seen Regina command a village burned and had even been present at Marian's would-be execution. Every time Emma surfaced from the book, she'd find herself tucked under Regina's arm, the brunette with a steely eyed gaze that would break just to answer any of Emma's questions. _What did they do to you? Did that make you feel better? Why did that feel so good to me?_

Regina would tell her in no uncertain terms: _nothing; marginally so; an understanding sigh._

It wasn't a warning or an encouragement; simply an understanding that Regina had gone through something similar and didn't come out of the tunnel that caved in on her. When Emma had snapped at her one day, yelling why Regina of all people would give a damn when the whole town was scared of her, Regina silenced her with another determined gaze, their noses nearly brushing when she stepped toe to toe with Emma. "I know you. You may have forgotten, but I haven't. I'm not giving up on you, Emma Swan."

That had made Emma's chest coil and her breath start to pant, and it wasn't until later that she thought it was actually Regina's emotions she had been feeling in that moment. A rush of endorphins that was so much more than excitement and fear. Because when Emma thought about it, Regina had become her grounding force, the beacon of light in a raging storm, and though they'd have to suffer the waves, at least they'd be together.

Tonight though, Emma was struggling to hang on to the light that was inside her when she could hear the whispered conversation of her parents as they tended to their youngest.

"She's different," Mary Margaret whispered to her husband. "She looks like she's about to snap any second."

"She's been through a lot, Snow. We don't know what it's fully done to her."

"She killed Cruella!" Her mother hissed. Emma stiffened under her blanket, but she continued to stare into the darkness, body humming in irritation and body twitching with pent up magic. "She wasn't even sorry for it. David, what have we done?"

Emma sat up then, debating on interrupting their not so private time by revealing the monster they created.

 _No, Emma. Not a monster._

The voice in her head was no doubt Regina's supportive words, and Emma clung to it, pushing past the satisfaction of telling her parents just what exactly she thought of their parenting styles and reaching the remorse that lay buried every time she witnessed one of Regina's Evil Queen days. It gnawed at her to know that Regina had torn families apart, Emma's life apart, but even the most friendly of animals lash out when backed into a corner.

Despite the horrors of Regina's past, she was the only person Emma could truly find comfort in. Like her darkened soul had cried out and Regina's came running. It was crazy; they were nothing more than friends. But Emma hadn't felt this way since Lily. Neal had been reminiscent of that time—two thieves banded together—but Lily knew her, even if she did lie. Regina, however, knew her even better.

She breathed, Regina's reassuring words rocking her into security. Her fingers gripped her bedsheets to better ground her concentration until the fibres beneath her fingers ceased being cotton and was actually fine downy.

"Emma?"

Emma's eyes snapped open, and she jumped to find herself in Regina's bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed with the comforter gripped in her palms.

"How did you get here?"

Emma turned to explain her presence, but the sight of Regina in a silk neglige, the royal purple spaghetti strap hanging off her shoulder causing the material to shift by plump breasts was enough to make the blonde tongue tied. Maybe it was the darkness inside her or maybe Emma had just ignored this feeling for too long, but she stared unabashedly so until a deft finger raised her chin so she met knowing brown eyes. She cocked a sheepish moderately apologetic eyebrow before clearing her throat, stealing one last glance, and scooting to face the older woman completely.

"My parents are scared of me again."

"Your mother, especially, fears easily," Regina teased hoping to see a smirk on the blonde's face, but when Emma continued to chew her lip, Regina sat up, adjusted her shift and curled her legs under her so Emma could properly sit.

"I overheard them talking. It's like when I couldn't control my magic with the Ice Queen. Sometimes I just want to prove them right," Emma admitted.

"Hold on to that." At Emma's curious look, Regina continued. "The sometimes. The darkness might pull you in stronger and stronger every time, but once that sometimes goes away, then all you have left is one bad decision after another."

"What if that's the only decision I have?" Neither woman noticed when Emma began moving her thumb over Regina's wrist, the motion sending tiny electric shivers through both their bodies but by this time the magic tingling between them was second nature.

"You're not alone in this. I won't let it get that far."

"You do that a lot. You're always so concerned about my heart." Emma could feel a pull, similar to the clenching in her chest whenever she was yanked into the book, but this time, there was no book, just Regina's energy drawing her in.

"Well, dear, you vowed to find me a happy ending. The least I can do is give you yours." Regina's voice was like velvet, mysterious and enticing. If anything was as tempting, simmering the darkness within Emma, it was Regina herself as her voice lured her in. She hadn't noticed Regina had taken her other hand and was running her fingernails along her skin there, but when she did, she could physically see the wisps of magic playing at their contact like sparks of electricity looking for a grounding force.

Emma scrunched up her face in contemplation, the underlying tension giving way to thought. She chuckled breathily. "You already did, didn't you?"

"What?" There was no denying that Regina's gaze had dropped to Emma's lips ever so briefly because happy endings typically involved kisses, and both women were certain that hadn't occurred. Yet.

"I never did thank you for those memories, did I?" Emma questioned quietly. "You gave me a life with Henry, and really it was you he was taking his first steps toward and you were the one he cried for at his first day of school."

"Well," Regina said casually. "Now you have even more of my memories, though I can't promise those will be as pleasant."

Emma just stared at her, and even in the darkness of the night, Regina could feel the ripple of magic tingling off the Saviour. Emma's magic always left a distinctive smell — rain on a sun shining day. Old lore had always theorized that sunstorms were the gifts of the gods, crying tears of happiness, and over the last couple of months, Emma sure did feel a lot like home. Gratitude flooded through her, and there was no mistaking who it was coming from.

"Thank you," Emma said earnestly. "For Henry."

Regina's lips twitched into a smile. "I could say the same to you, Emma."

The blonde felt the pull in her chest. There was no book. No chance of sleeping just yet. But there was touch. Crackling touch feeling the heat rise from Regina's skin.

"I don't know about finding my happy ending," Emma whispered leaning forward as if drawn by a magnet, "but I'm pretty sure I'm about to make a bad decision right now."

Regina's eyelids fluttered, a hot gasp kissing Emma's lips. "Who says it's bad?"

The only thought racing through Emma's head was Regina, feeling her, kissing her, and Emma did. She pressed their lips together, and despite her constant claims that her darkness would make her lose control, she was gentle, pressing her lips almost tentatively against Regina's until the brunette was kissing back. Emma gasped into her mouth both at the exhilaration coursing through her but because her mind ignited—want, need, desperation, and something else, something akin to yearning. Emma was so, so tempted to push deeper. Her hands had retreated from Regina's wrist, and somehow she had leaned further against the older woman and wrapped her arms around her lower waist, tugging her flush against her.

Everything in Emma screamed for her to take this further because she knew Regina wanted this just as much as she did. She felt in her bones, in her heart, in her soul. Maybe the darkness in her was an excuse to trail her fingers down Regina's waist, tickling her thighs briefly before pushing up under the negligee and press her hot hands at her waist. The brunette sank against the bed until Emma all but straddled her at the headboard. Whatever evil Emma was fighting within her, all signs pointed to good when it came to kissing Regina.

Emma's eager fingers dipped lower, teasing the hem of Regina's panties before a breathy whimper gasped against her throat. "Wait."

"Regina," Emma whined, her fingers tugging at the silk, the heat from between Regina's legs doing nothing to help clear her mind.

"Emma." Regina snaked her hands from around Emma's neck and found purchase on the blonde's wrists. Her chest was heaving and her eyes were still closed, and even behind the closed lids Emma could see the conflict behind them. Then slowly Regina opened her eyes, linking their fingers but not pulling them away from where they teased at her heat. "I want this. I have for a while. But you appeared into my bedroom after a near panic attack, and I think we should take things slow."

The blonde let her hands be anchored, using them as leverage to lean over and pepper kisses on Regina's cheek and jaw. "The Queen wants to take things slow?"

"She commands it," Regina sighed breathily.

Emma sat back on her knees, bringing their linked hands up to her lips and kissing every knuckle. She felt a tingle in her core that was clearly coming from the other woman, and Emma almost went back on her retreat when she felt Regina's desire course through her. But then Regina smiled, a smile genuine yet so soft one could hardly believe it was coming from the fabled Evil Queen, and the darkness that stirred within Emma gave way to the brightness in Regina's smile.

"I'm feeling better," Emma voiced like a child coming out of time out.

"I know."

"It doesn't seem so dark whenever you're around."

The brunette snorted. "That's quite the paradox. The Saviour finding solace in the Evil Queen."

Emma frowned, though her lip jutted out could be thought as a pout. "We're just Emma and Regina, remember?"

Regina nodded and weaved a hand free and patted the space beside her in bed. "You must be tired."

Emma crawled up the bed, snuggling under the duvet and propping her head up on a hand. Regina turned to face her, and Emma took the opportunity to draw patterns on the brunette's lotioned skin. "How did you fight it for so long?"

"I reminded myself that you were Henry's birth mother and I was supposed to hate you."

Emma laughed out loud, tugging Regina close. "No I meant—" she motioned to herself with a pained expression. "When you came to Storybrooke and realized you won. Why didn't you just burn the whole town and start over in Boston?"

"I had nothing to fight against," Regina admitted quietly, her own fingers playing with a lock of golden hair that escaped from Emma's bun. "Everyone bowed down to my wishes. The town should have been perfect for me. I was told I would never be able to kill your parents while in the Enchanted Forest, but the second we came here, and I saw how meek your mother was, a far cry from the stubborn girl she once was, there wasn't a point. I could have. But in all honesty, where's the fun in that? Making Mary Margaret Blanchard jump proved more entertaining than making Snow beg. Eventually I realized I had put myself in a cage full of people I couldn't stand, and the only one I had to blame for that was myself."

"If they were self-aware and you still had all the power, what would you have done?"

"I would have watched them burn," Regina said without batting an eye.

"And I can't rip my parents a new one?" Emma quipped.

Suddenly the empowered brunette became self-conscious and Emma held tighter when Regina tried to pull away. "I'm supposed to be helping you and here I am pouring fuel on the fire."

"No." The blonde held her tighter, drawing her in. "It's nice."

"To know I had a murderous streak?" Regina questioned with a raised eyebrow.

The younger woman shook her head. "To not be alone in this. I was mad at my parents before but every time I see them I just—"

It was Regina's turn to tug the blonde in, tracing her nails along Emma's jaw until green eyes snapped open once more.

"I'm scared of what I'm capable of doing to them, to anyone who happens to say the wrong thing," the blonde continued. "It's nice to have someone who's been through what I have."

Regina inched forward and brushed her mouth against Emma's jaw once and then her lips, her own curling upward in a reassuring smile. "You do have someone, Emma."

"I know."

* * *

Emma did know that she had people in her corner, was even vaguely aware of the fact of how profusely apologetic her parents were. Still that didn't make the darkness swirling deep inside her any easier to control. It was almost comical that the town had a new threat to be concerned about that came in the form of a beloved figure. Dealing with Mayor Regina was one thing, and Gold and his sly deal could be kept away from, and even Maleficent was lying low for whatever reason, but Emma was the Saviour turned dark, their Sheriff, their kingdom's princess. If they thought she had a temper as Sheriff when there was graffiti on store sides ten minutes before her shift ended, that was nothing compared to the coiling anger that was always just below her skin.

She kept it contained. For the most part. The little bug of annoyance that caused such immense irritation was always buzzing about her ears like an incessant mosquito so much so that when one of the Dwarves had made a comment that maybe Greg and Tamara had the right idea, stripping magic from all the evil doers, Emma may or may not have grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and sent him barreling back into his brothers like a game of human bowling.

That move made the town talk more, yet she couldn't find it in her to be sorry about it. She had relived Regina's memories, condemning executions and burning villages, and all Emma could do was sit back and watch. But this, being the agent of the action was another thing entirely. It felt good.

One night while she lay in Regina's bed, the moon and the stars the only audience to their late night talk, Emma voiced as much. She understood why Regina kept falling further and further down the broken path, magic and power at her fingertips. Living without consequence, where every move went unmatched out of fear, it was exciting.

That scared the crap out of her, and the only way for that perceived goodness to be tossed aside was by holing herself up at Mills mansion with her son and her girlfriend.

The title still sounded odd, even to both their ears, but the feeling she got whenever she'd knock on the mansion and Regina would open it with a bright smile made her feel like the two Mills held a candle around her, combating the shadows in her until it was only left with light and warmth. She wasn't dark in that house, neither was she considered the Saviour expected to do and be good even in her sleeping state. She was Emma, and it had been a long, long time since anyone had ever treated her as simply just Emma.

Emma, whose anger was reminiscent of her teenage delinquent days. Regina had dreamed a fair share of them—Emma starting fights in gym class, the blonde running from cops with a hysterical grin and her knapsack full of spray paint, the teen caught in a yelling match with some man twice her size only to come out with a shiner. Regina knew of the underlying anger that Emma had eventually learned to control as she grew older and realized being angry wasn't going to get her out the life she had no say in, but seeing it now—the blonde thirty and nostrils flaring because the dwarves were talking in hushed tones about what Snow had told them—had Regina worried.

Their emotional connection heightened, and more often than not Regina was able to sense when Emma was going to lose it before it even occurred to the Saviour, but what made matters worse was that with wayward tempers came uncontrollable magic. Regina could settle it with a touch of her own hand so their magic mixed as it had when opening portals or causing eclipses, but it was something Emma needed to learn how to control for herself. With Emma's darkness as public knowledge, it was getting harder and harder.

So Emma ended up doing what Regina did when the first curse broke. She hid. She hid in the mansion with Regina and Henry, and though neither Mills were complaining, Regina knew that was just a bandaid solution. The minute Emma walked out the door and the figurative straw breaking her back fell, she'd snap. For the time being Regina was able to talk with her, get her to understand that not every decision she made would be fueled by hatred. Henry hadn't feared her and he had been there, and the only thing shaking the Evil Queen were the nerves permeating Emma's being. But at night, when still Emma didn't want to go and Regina didn't ask her to leave, they'd stay up not talking about the book, or the Author, or Emma's darkness or Regina's charred soul. Whispered secrets in the night, stories of the past, or simple recounting of the days were all that escaped their lips, but now there were touches. Because they could, in more than one sense. They could allow the other in as their lips met in a deep kiss, and just that knowledge seemed to make everything brighter. For a few hours Storybrooke and its problems dwindled away.

Until Maleficent walked into the diner and asked the Saviour to use her tracking skills to find her long lost daughter, Lily.

* * *

"Emma." Regina followed the blonde as she paced the hotel room. "Emma, please look at me."

"I'm fine." The blonde ripped the mini bar fridge open and pulled out the complimentary mini bottle of Jack.

"You're not." Regina took a step closer and breathed deeply. For once she was happy to be without magic for the unadulterated anger coursing through Emma was enough to set Regina back on her Evil Queen ways. "Emma."

"I don't want to talk about it, Regina."

"Can you just look at me then?" The brunette hoped. Emma released her right fist around the bottle and with much effort, lifted her gaze up to Regina's. The Queen smiled. "There you are."

But Emma shook her head, her body tensing as her gaze darted wildly. "I'm not, this isn't me. I-I-I almost killed her."

"You didn't."

"I wanted to!" The blonde yelled so loudly it reverberated off the walls. "It was so easy, Regina. She was right there, and I was this close to pulling the trigger."

"This is you." Regina took a step forward and cautioned a hand over Emma's heart. The contact didn't make Emma flinch, but the coiling emotion under her flesh made her skin hot. "The you who put down the gun. You are the one who made the right choice."

Emma just shook her head, her hands coming up like she wanted to put them over her ears in disillusion. "If you weren't there—"

Regina moved her hand from Emma's heart to cheek. "I know the darkness scares you, Emma. But you still have control. You're still fighting. You're still in there punching back."

She shook her head again, softer this time, but Regina took it as a victory when Emma gripped both of Regina's wrists in her palms and stepped closer so they were chest to chest. "You need to get away from me. I could murder you in your sleep."

"I'll take my chances." Slowly Regina inched forward her forehead pressed against Emma's. Ghosting kisses over her lover's nose and cheeks, Regina whispered. "You're better than all the evil in world. Not because of your parents or that you're the Saviour. Because of you."

"It doesn't feel that way right now," the blonde whispered, clutching Regina's wrists like a lifeline.

"I know." Inching backwards, Regina led them to the bed, only releasing contact when she quickly glanced behind her to make sure they had reached the edge and sat.

"I couldn't stop myself."

"I know the feeling," Regina admitted, tugging them into the middle of the bed so they were a tangled mess of limbs sitting there.

Emma quieted, her forehead dropping to Regina's shoulder. She breathed in deeply once, then twice. This land without magic was useless if Regina wasn't able to brew a sleeping potion to make Emma forget, but then she would be just like Snow and David taking a choice away from Emma, and they had promised each other that their life was their own. If all Regina could offer were comforting arms as she stroked Emma's back, then she'd be as much.

Long minutes passed where the only sounds permeating the quiet were the whir of the mini fridge and the low volume of the television from the room beside them. No doubt Lily was racking up the bill by ordering pay-per-view. Regina hummed quietly, that soft rock lullaby that seemed to sooth her even in her adult age, and finally, the woman under her arm evened her breathing. Her body remained rigid, as if coiling like a tight spring waiting to pop, but at least she wasn't having a panic attack anymore and perhaps resting her mind with some much needed sleep.

In the midst of her humming, Regina felt it, the pull that always occurred just before sleep whenever her dreams were filled with past memories of Emma's life. This time it wasn't just being pulled into the blonde's past. It was flashes, flashes of memory from Emma's time in the foster care where she'd overhear foster parents and social workers saying she was trouble, difficult, hard to deal with. Flashes of times when Emma proved them right by walking up to the biggest, baddest kid on the playground and socking them in the jaw. Being that delinquent that skipped school and ran away because that was all she would ever amount to. All them led back to just a few hours ago where Emma held a gun to Lily's forehead and threatened to cross that point of no return.

The shiver under Regina's arm was the only indication that Emma hadn't fallen asleep like she thought. Blank, distant eyes stared straight ahead and suddenly another flash—Emma's wild out of control magic harming their son then back to Lily threatening to end her life.

What Regina saw made her throat tighten because this time, Emma pulled the trigger.

The flashes continued when Regina shimmied down and smoothed blonde hair out Emma's face. What pained her was the realization that Emma wasn't in a trance; just deep in thought letting the darkest corners of her mind consume her.

"Emma," Regina urged—Mr. Mirchov entered her room and a mantra filled her head. _Be a good girl. Be a good girl_ —"Emma."

The blonde blinked and the flashes slowed, but Regina could still feel that vulnerability leaking off Emma. She didn't have time to think about how that could have possibly happened because the only thing running through her riddled mind was she _is_ good.

So Regina, at a loss of what to do and desperately wanting Emma to believe, kissed her.

She kissed her, slowly at first and giving the blonde time to pull away if need be, but the anxiety cleared and Emma relaxed minutely, the shared connection in their mind halting until the image disintegrated and the only thought between them was _this is good._

Somewhere between nibbling on Emma's lip and brushing their noses together in affection, Regina felt the blonde draw back once more, and she could hear the silent fight happening in Emma's head. She doesn't deserve this. She's destined for darkness.

How many times had Regina thought the same thing? No, Emma was too good for the darkness to consume her. She may be damaged with pieces of her stitched together, but she was still good, and if there was one person in the world who deserved happiness it was Emma.

Regina kissed her, harder this time and pouring every ounce of affection she could. As a child, Regina always dreamed of those firework kisses that got her heart racing, but she didn't imagine it would be like this—vivid colour, wide smiles, and _love_. So much love she could barely comprehend.

Gone was Emma holding a gun to Lily's head and instead the memory was replaced herself and Henry as they smiled to one another in the back booth of the diner. The surprise caught Regina off guard that she gasped breathily into Emma's mouth.

"Did you—"

"Yes."

All Regina could do was laugh as a surge of happiness flooded through her. She pecked Emma's lips. "Hold on to that."

"I—" Emma's eyes clouded again, and the image of Regina and Henry's stolen moment was fading from their minds, foggy blackness threatening to consume its edges with visions of Emma's empty eyes mere seconds before magicking Cruella off the cliff.

"Emma," Regina implored, cupping the blonde's cheeks between her palms before kissing her soundly once more.

The warmth came back, fighting off the guilt. As if willing the memory to the forefront of her mind and praying to any gods that Emma would see it, Regina remembered one of her most favourite memories — seeing Emma and Henry for the first time after the second curse. The thought had been laced with underlying pain knowing that Henry couldn't remember her, but then Emma was the one to press harder against her, her tongue coming into play as if helping the older woman to remember that in the end, she got Emma and Henry back.

"If it works for me, it'll work for you right?" Emma asked breathily, her fingers playing along Regina's waist. Somewhere in between their kisses, Emma had moved to straddle Regina's waist, and green eyes bore into brown with a desperate yearning, though what they both needed wasn't something they consciously thought of. Their bodies, on the other hand, were more than ready to fill in the blanks.

The spark between them that was always more than understanding, more than acceptance, more than magic even, ignited with a fury. It was as if all the cosmic forces in the world that had been pulling their puppet strings were leading them to this moment. It was always them in the end, always Emma and Regina.

They kissed again, slowly this time, even as their minds continued to meld as one. Every kiss was chased with a memory. There was no reason or explanation as to why it was happening or how for that matter, but fighting off bad dreams was given a new meaning whenever a moment of doubt seeped into their minds and it was beat away with an insistent kiss or determined touch.

Regina—or was it Emma?—was so consumed that so intertwined were they as clothes were removed and flesh heated to the touch that it took a minute to truly grasp this feeling. If Regina thought Daniel, or even Robin for that matter, was True Love, nothing compared to the intensity coursing through every fiber of her soul as she kissed her way down Emma's body in a mixture of gentle reverence and wanton lust.

This wasn't the first time they had been together, their bodies already familiar to each other's touch, but this time—Emma let out a whoosh of breath as Regina descended down on her with an insistent tongue—this time there was no doubt about their promising future.

The demanding mothers, the indecent foster parents, the stealing, and the killing, that all gave way to family dinners, waking up in each other's arms, arguing, and love making. Whether it was precognition, hope, or something else entirely, neither woman cared because they knew without a doubt that this was where they were supposed to be.

* * *

"What was that?" Emma whispered into the quiet of the night as they lay cuddled under the blankets hours later.

"If I have to spell it out for you, dear—"

Emma rolled her eyes and nudged Regina indignantly. She turned onto her side and played with the short locks that had kinked wildly in the last few hours. "You know what I mean. That was..."

"Intense," Regina filled in for her with a nod.

"Yeah. It was like..." Emma waved her free hand wildly trying to come up with a suitable explanation. "The world aligning."

Regina bit back a smirk but agreed once more. She reached for Emma's free hand and pressed her lips against the knuckles. "Yes. That sounds so daunting when you put it that way."

"Does that scare you?" Emma asked with wide-eyed hope painting her expression.

Yes, if Regina was being honest. Something that felt so right couldn't have been good for her, after all. Fate would always play a role in her and Emma's life, and whether that role was simply to get them to mother the Heart of the Truest Believer, or to get them to this moment right here was up in the air. But that was the beauty of it, wasn't it? Regina thought with a wry smirk and snuggled closer to Emma. Fate may have carved a path, but it was ultimately their choice whether to tread through it.

"A lot," Regina admitted, her head pillowed on Emma's chest.

The blonde came to tangle her fingers through brown hair, the soft lull of her breathing easing Regina's own rapidly beating heart.

"It scares me too," Emma whispered.

Regina leaned up then, her face hovering over Emma's. Emma moved her hand up to trace the scar on Regina's upper lip, the only mark left from Cora's abuse, but Regina caught her hand, their fingers intertwining. In the middle of some run down motel in the outskirts of Boston, Emma and Regina watched magic dance between their fingertips. Purple and white sparks dancing together like their bodies had hours earlier before finally they coiled around each other like wire and disappeared under their flesh.

One last thought was shared between them before their connected minds released them—though neither woman noticed the loss until months later—since its point had already been made: Emma, and Regina, and Henry. They were the family that started it all, and in that quiet motel room, they realized that in every world, in every time, they'd always choose this.


End file.
